


Plus One.

by springburn



Series: The Thick of It mini-fics [54]
Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Explicit Language, F/M, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Office Party, Unrequited Love, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 07:03:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6319405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springburn/pseuds/springburn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is an office party, Malcolm hates parties, Malcolm is watching Nicola Murray on the dance floor......</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plus One.

**Author's Note:**

> This story started as a tiny seed of an idea in a dream, the scene with the two of them standing at the bar......the rest I've just kinda added and expanded, and made into a little one shot.   
> It is set before Malcolm and Sam are an item, and is not really set in any particular AU I've written before, but could be interpreted as such if so desired.

PLUS ONE.

 

Music pounded, the insistent beat invading the very pores of his skin.   
A rhythmic metronome as bodies swayed on the dance floor.   
Christ! Nicola was pissed again! Gyrating in an almost horrific parody of an erstwhile Beyoncé, arse wiggling, hands waving above her head, a circle of sweat underneath each armpit. 

Sam, who was standing beside him, watched with a frozen shock face. Wincing slightly each time the hips made another provocative thrust.

She glanced sideways at Malcolm and raised her eyebrows in mute question.   
He tried to yell over the roar of the music, and she leaned in closer, turning her head to the side in an effort to catch his words.   
All she actually made out was, "Fucking hell!" and something about 'jiggling'. 

How Malcolm Tucker hated these shindigs.   
Free booze was a motion to wars.   
Offering people a limitless supply of buckshee alcohol was like a British Summer.....one magnificent scorching hot day and everyone gets thoroughly sunburnt, then it rains nonstop for three weeks, and the population are suicidal. 

Sam put her lips close to his ear, and bellowed into it.  
"I'm going upstairs to the other bar, I can't bear to watch this anymore!" 

He nodded and held out his arm for her to take, not failing to notice the dazzling smile she gave him as he did so.   
Fuck, but she was a lovely girl. So elegant tonight, beautiful dress, so chic and flattering. Hair and makeup perfect. Nothing over the top, just pure class. 

Way out of his league. 

Not to mention the fact that he was a wizened husk at least fifteen years her senior. 

They made their way to the lifts, and Malcolm pressed the button, she relinquished her grip on him as he stood back to wait.   
His ears were still ringing. 

Behind him the throbbing music continued unabated. 

"Thank fuck for that." He breathed. "At least I can hear myself think out here."   
The lift arrived and he ushered her inside. 

"Looking very dapper tonight Malcolm." She observed, as the doors slid together.  
"Well, you know me!" He replied, looking critically at his own reflection in the stainless steel wall.   
"Fucking straight off the catwalk, me! Gandy's worried!" 

Sam smiled prettily.   
"He should be!" She responded. 

Malcolm looked at her curiously.  
What was this? Was she mocking him? Clearly she must be. 

"Yeah. Fuck you!" He lashed back.   
Her face fell, an injured expression. Her cheeks coloured significantly, and she stared down at her feet.   
"Can't you allow me to pay you a compliment?" She mumbled.   
Malcolm looked confused, he wasn't quite sure what was going on. Had he missed something?  
It was all so fucking subtle with women. So bloody complicated.   
Fuck if he knew anything. 

"Thought you were taking the piss!" He said eventually, as they reached the mezzanine floor and stepped out. 

"I was trying to tell you how smart and handsome you look Malcolm. There's no more to it than that." She looked so crestfallen that he felt instantly contrite. 

"Right! Sorry. Not used to people doing that.....doesn't happen often! Not to me. So thanks.....I guess." He finished lamely.   
"You, however......." He continued, before she had time to speak again, ".......you look the dogs bollocks! Fucking gorgeous! Why the fuck are you with me? Where's your plus one?" 

Sam regarded him with an air of ill disguised frustration, her brows knitted together, lips pursed, as she let out a disgruntled puff.  
"I don't have a plus one. I don't WANT a plus one........" She began, she seemed so irritated that Malcolm was convinced he'd touched a raw nerve.   
God, why on earth did he say that?   
Stupid arse, now he'd upset her because she was clearly wishing she had a boyfriend and wasn't currently dating.  
Fuck it! When did he become so insensitive?   
"........well, I do!" She continued, " But the plus one I want doesn't seem to see me.....not like that anyway!" 

She was looking right into his face pointedly, as if she were asking him a question, and yet no question had been asked.   
They reached the bar, and he handed her up onto a stool, motioning to the bar tender.  
"Scotch on the rocks and a glass of pink fizz......." He barked, "not the cheap shite, the good stuff!"   
He turned back to her......she was smiling at him, and it gave him an odd lurch in his stomach. 

"You remembered!" She said quietly. 

"Course!" He replied, reaching inside his jacket for his wallet. "Rule of thumb, always remember what a lady likes to drink!" 

They clinked glasses and sipped, the silence between them hung there like ripe fruit from a tree.   
Waiting to fall. 

"So! This guy then....?" He ventured, setting his glass aside and leaning his elbow on the bar counter with an easy nonchalance, ".......he must be blind? Or just stupid? Or something?"

Sam looked at him thoughtfully for a few seconds before answering. 

"I'm not sure!" She said eventually. "I think he thinks I wouldn't be interested in him, I think he might think he's too old for me, or not my type." 

Malcolm put a long finger down between his neck and the starched collar of his dress shirt, and tugged at it with a grimace.   
Why was it so fucking hot in here all of a sudden? 

"Sounds like a cunt." He retorted sharply. 

She shook her head.   
"No." She mused. "Just a bit shy perhaps, and maybe doesn't think he's good enough." 

"A Jessie then." Malcolm took a large swig of scotch and swallowed it with a gulp.   
"Ugh! This stuff is like fucking mouthwash!" He spat.   
Sam's face remained impassive, her eyes never leaving his, it was most disconcerting.....being under her gaze. Like he was being tested in some way, or interrogated, or minutely scanned.....he, who had eviscerated ministers, verbally castrated civil servants......squirming uncomfortably under her steady gaze.   
"Not a Jessie either." She replied carefully, after a short pause. "I think he's just wary. Not sure what of. Being turned down perhaps, or that it might be inappropriate, or that he might get hurt.....I dunno!" 

She'd finished her champagne and Malcolm drained his whiskey.   
Downstairs the thud of the bass had stilled and the sound of slow dance music wafted from the dance floor. 

Strains of "Lady in Red" floated through the foyer, and up to where they stood.   
"I hate this fucking song!" Malcolm remarked. "Another?" He gestured to her empty glass.   
"Not right now thank you." 

Her countenance was dreamy somehow, her eyelids half closed, focussed on him still, lips slightly parted.   
Fuck it all!   
Malcolm found that he couldn't look away. He found himself wondering what it would be like to kiss her, he shook his head and puffed out his cheeks.   
'Fucking stop that, you dirty old man.' He admonished himself. 

Norah Jones "Come Away with Me" began to play.  
Sam took a step closer to him.  
"Dance with me?" She said quietly. Her hand came up and picked a speck of fluff from his lapel.   
"Here?" His eyebrows arched.  
"No silly! Downstairs!.......Please?" There was a subtle plea in her eyes, they darted to his, then to his mouth, then back again.   
Shining.......china blue.......gazing at him with something that resembled adoration, but it couldn't possibly be.....  
Fuck!

He swallowed. Pulled at his bow tie nervously. 

"Okay then! I'm game if you are!" He held his arm out to her again, and she tucked her own through his at the elbow and pressed her arm into his, as they made their way down the stairs this time, and onto the dance floor. 

Malcolm felt awkward, stiff, pent up and far from relaxed.   
He hesitated as to where his arms or hands should go, and eventually decided to rest them on her hips. For a moment he was scared she'd put hers around his neck, but she didn't. Instead she rested them just below his shoulders, at the top of his arms, holding firmly to his jacket.   
Bringing herself closer as they began to sway together to the music.

Malcolm Tucker's heart was pounding so hard he swore that other people would hear it over the song.   
The feel of her, soft against him, her body right up against his own. There was a faint hint of perfume, and the scent of her hair, pinned as it was with sparkling diamanté clips, he could see the colour of her lipstick, the way her little pearl earrings fitted into the holes in her delicate earlobes, the fine downy hair on her cheek. 

Her dress clung to her curves in all the right places, low at the back, with a fine chain across her shoulder blades. High heels made her taller, so that her head was just level with his shoulder.   
She hummed slightly, and leaned into him. 

Holy fuck, but she felt so good.   
Better than any woman Malcolm had ever had the privilege to touch, and that was saying a great deal! 

"This is so nice Malcolm!" She whispered, bringing her mouth very close to his ear to speak.   
He shivered involuntarily, and was about to come out with something profound when the moment was abruptly shattered by someone cannoning into them.   
Barging Malcolm's shoulder and almost pushing Sam over. 

It was Ollie Reeder. 

"Watch it! Fucking Harry Potter!" Malcolm blazed, his reverie rudely interrupted.   
Reeder was three sheets to the wind.   
Two little rosy circles on his cheeks, like a Pelham Puppet. 

"Sorry! Hey.....Sam.....you look fantabulous! Can I cut in?"   
He made to take Sam's arm to pull her away, leering at her breasts suggestively, causing her to recoil with disgust as a blast of his beery breath hit her. 

"No you can't! Fuck off!" Malcolm was livid. 

Ollie focussed his bleary gaze on Malcolm, and giggled slightly. Whilst swaying gently at the same time. 

"Aww......come on Malcolm.......she's not interested in an old bastard like you......are you Sam?" 

He tugged at Sam's arm again, and she twisted from his grip angrily.   
Malcolm pushed him away and glared at him with contempt. 

"As the greengrocer said......'Don't fucking handle the fruit unless you can afford to buy', Sunshine!" He hissed......

"......I'm dancing with Sam here......go find yourself a frat fuck, that's more your line.....highly intelligent and classy ladies like Miss Cassidy are way out of your reach. Now fuck off, before I pull the waistband of your trousers so high that you'll be singing boy soprano in the choir!" 

Ollie's whole face reddened to beetroot proportions.   
"What?" He exclaimed, voice slurring. "She wouldn't look at an dried up old shit like you then....not if she's as intelligent and classy as you say!" 

Before Malcolm could act further, and before things could turn nasty, Sam took his hand gently in hers and began to guide him away. 

"Malcolm, he's drunk. Ignore him. Come on, I want to go home, I wonder if you'd mind escorting me?" 

Eyes blazing, he turned to see her considering him as if he were some kind of hero. His face immediately softened. 

There was no competition here. 

Apparently he'd won the jackpot prize. 

Fuck! 

Before moving away, Sam turned back to Ollie, and to Malcolm's surprise, spoke to him quietly through gritted teeth. 

"Thank you for spoiling my evening. It's not often I get to dance with a REAL man who is both courteous and chivalrous.   
A man who knows how a lady should be treated. Not to be pawed and ogled, but respected.  
You say I wouldn't look at him......which shows that you know nothing about women whatever, and tells me why you don't have a girlfriend. Who'd look at Officer Dibble, when they can have Top Cat?"   
She turned away, with an expression of satisfaction and taking Malcolm's proffered elbow, they left the dance floor and headed out to the foyer. 

"Fuck was that all about?" He challenged, once they were out of earshot of the assembled company. 

"Don't Malcolm!" Her eyes were dewy now, and he could see she was close to tears. "Please will you take me home?"

Reaching inside his jacket, Malcolm pulled out his phone, flicking through speed dial, pressing, and speaking into it rapidly, pacing up and down as he did so.   
He then returned to Sam's side, in time to see her dabbing her eyes with a tissue. 

"Sam.....cab's on its way. You gonna tell me what that creep's done to make you so upset? He's just pissed for fuck's sake, and he's being a total knob!" 

"It's not the first time he's manhandled me, and he wasn't drunk then.....sober as a judge in fact.   
He's more than a knob Malcolm, he's a lech, he's manipulative and mean, and I don't like or trust him." 

"The fucking long streak of piss! I'm going back in there and I'm gonna deck him. He's doing it to indirectly shit on me! How dare he use you to get to me like that......how dare he mess with you at all.......you're my fucking PA.......Jesus Christ!" 

Sam caught his arm and held him back firmly. 

"No, Malcolm. No scenes. Please! I just want to go.....the taxi's just pulled up." 

Her boss was seething, she'd never seen him so incandescent with simmering rage.  
In the back of the car he fought a battle within himself, because he knew full well that his anger at Ollie's behaviour had nothing to do with anything that might be connected with him, and everything to do with the green eyed monster that lay coiled inside his chest and was at present eating him alive.

Fucking little prick. 

Sam was silent. Staring out of the window with glassy eyes, into the darkness.   
He touched her arm gently, his hand giving a little squeeze.   
"I'll have a quiet word with him on Monday. Warn him off.....in my best Angel Gabriel voice, of course. It won't happen again.....I'll leave him in no doubt of the consequences if it does."   
She didn't answer, but leaned into his chest with a sniff. 

Malcolm wasn't sure what to do. 

So he snaked a comforting arm around her shoulder, drew her closer, resting his cheek against the top of her head.   
They remained thus until the cab drew up outside her home. 

Malcolm was out of the car and opening her door for her almost before they'd come to a halt.   
He walked with her up to her front door, asking the cabbie to wait. 

Sam found her key and at the moment of letting herself in, Malcolm wished her a gentle goodnight, and turned to leave.   
She grabbed his hand, catching just his fingertips lightly with hers, her voice thin, reedy, in a desperate plea. 

"Don't go!" 

Malcolm hesitated.   
Looking down at her small hand, their fingers curling together. 

"Sam......?" His tone was quiet and concerned. It carried a note of caution. 

"Please!" She reiterated. 

Malcolm gave a resigned sigh.   
What the fuck was he about to do? 

Make a very big mistake. 

Somehow, the look on her face that he couldn't quite define, he couldn't say no. 

"Stay there a minute." He said, and retracing his steps down the path, he leaned into the cab driver's window, paid him and sent him away. 

Rejoining Sam at her front door, his hands now thrust into his trouser pockets.   
He regarded her sheepishly. 

"Are you sure about this?" 

"Just for a little while Malcolm. It doesn't have to be a big deal.....it's just a nightcap.....or a coffee if you prefer?" 

Inside the hallway, she closed the door behind them, and he helped her off with her coat.   
Followed her through to the kitchen. 

She kicked off her shoes and began bustling......why?   
Bustling about like she was demented. Like she was suddenly petrified.  
As if she'd decided that maybe this was a silly idea. 

"Now then! I have wine.......or Scotch....or.......vodka.....probably, possibly!" She was babbling, she knew it.......opening and shutting cupboards as she hunted for glasses, mugs.....ice cubes.

Malcolm leaned against the counter and watched her every move with growing discomfiture.

"Sam, you're a lovely girl.......and I'm flattered......really.......but I don't really think this is the best idea, do you?" 

She spun round, glaring at him......defensive, but determined. Her voice became shrill. 

"Go on.....say it why don't you.....you've been thinking it all evening......not my finest hour.....coming on to my boss, who happens to be extremely attractive, and never even so much as looks twice at me, and here I am.....me asking him to dance.....almost forcing him......then begging him to take me home......what the hell was I thinking?   
And now he's standing here in front of me, in my kitchen.....wishing he was a million miles away, because he's far too nice to tell me he's not interested, and.........I'm making a complete tit of myself, aren't I? And I'm sorry.......but I......."

Her words were stolen from her mouth by his lips closing over hers.   
He'd moved into her, pulling her towards him suddenly by her forearms, then cupping her face in his hands, and leaning down to kiss her, the touch very tentative at first, pulling away to gauge her reaction, then, when she murmured his name,  
"Malcolm!".........  
........renewing his assault, his body crowding hers, arms wrapping themselves around her, she returned the kiss with interest, and he deepened it further.  
"Oh God!" She whimpered, clutching the front of his jacket to keep him in place.   
His fingers were tangled in her hair, the decorative clips clattering to the floor as it came undone, falling around her face in a flurry of curls.  
"So fucking beautiful!" He whispered, looking down at her, his mouth wet from the kiss, pupils blown wide, his breathing laboured. 

She smiled up at him, and it made his head spin. 

"Just so you know........it's you." She said softly.

"What is?" He said, placing small but insistent pecks against her lips once more. 

"The plus one I want......have always wanted." She murmured, close to his ear. 

"Fucking fuck me!"


End file.
